Disclaimer: Imitation is the highest form of flattery. Fanfiction is a close second. All hail Joss.
The inspection, as Mal had called it, went swimmingly well. Serenity had a few new parts she had desperately needed and was ready to fly again.
"We ready to go, Zoe?" Mal asked.
"All are accounted for, if that's what you mean."
"Any last stops?"
"Goodbye, land," River cried dramatically as Simon lead her on board. "Parting is such sweet sorrow."
"No," Zoe said to Mal, picking up right where they'd left off before River's crazy interlude. "Seems we're all set to shake dust."
"Great." They looked at one another awkwardly, then Zoe broke eye contact and went on board. Mal cursed himself quietly. It had been just like this since, well, since he knew when and didn't want to say it. It was awkward and unpleasant, and even though they were ignoring it like professionals it still didn't sit right with him. He hated it when his crew didn't get along. They were like his family. But nothing could be done about it now. His inspector friend had told him he'd best be gone from the planet by sunup, and the tiny sun was peaking its nosy head over a dune.
Zoe had dreamt about Mal for the past two nights. Her mind replayed his kiss over and over, the way it had replayed her husband's death. She didn't connect the two right away, and when she did it made her feel sick and guilty. She'd always told Wash that he had nothing to worry about with her and Mal. It had been so stupid how jealous he was about it. There never was, never would be anything between them.
Never say never. Mal's face haunted her dreams, his lips brushed hers in countless daydreams. In her steamy showers she felt his embrace around her body as the water poured over her curves. It was delicious and scathing. Maybe… her mind had crossed into dangerous territory. Maybe she should do something about it. It had been long enough since Wash's death. She would never get over it, not truly. But she could let it go enough to want to be happy again. And she knew if Wash looked deep inside himself, he would want her to be happy.
From his standpoint Wash scoffed at this. Of course he wanted her to be happy- just preferably not with Mal. But he was dead and she was alive. She had blood running in her veins- from the amount of time she spent thinking about Mal's touch, that was obvious. So Wash begrudgingly admitted to himself that he did want her to be happy, no matter with who. He would have even (eventually) conceded to Jayne.
"Zoe?" Kaylee's perky voice snapped the woman out of her semidazed state. She sat up in her seat.
"Yes?" She tried her best not to look startled, but she was startled so it couldn't be helped.
"I made you something. Me and River did." She proudly held up a formless shape of blue fabric.
"For me?" Zoe reached out and took the cloth, puzzled. Kaylee had made her a curtain? When she touched it, the fabric felt smoother than it rightfully should have been. It couldn't be silk, could it? Could it? Sure felt nice. She touched it delicately, and found it wasn't a curtain but a dress. It flowed and billowed beautifully. It was a thin material, but light and airy and stunning. It reminded her of the ridiculous getups Inara would wear. Ridiculous, she told everyone, but secretly wished she could look half as beautiful as the companion had. "Thank you, Kaylee," she said, feeling those words were not enough. But she had nothing better.
"Try it on."
"Now? Why?" She caught the hurt look in Kaylee's bright eyes. "I mean, why'd you do this?"
"So you can feel pretty." The mechanic smiled sweetly, and Zoe copied it. She couldn't help it. Kaylee was just so bright eyed and dreamy sometimes, it was truly endearing.
"Okay, I will." She took the dress carefully in her arms and retreated to her quarters. Maybe she would just slip it on for a second, just to see how it looked. From what she could see, there wasn't much to this thing. The material was nice but the shape of it seemed a bit blasé for her tastes.
Oh my, but she was so wrong.
It fit her beautifully. More than beautifully. She twirled in her mirror several times, unsure this was actually her reflection looking back in amazed wonder. The dress had the perfect amount of slink, twirl and hug that every dress should. The last dress that'd made her feel so regal was her wedding dress.
Kaylee was waiting patiently outside Zoe's door. "Oh, wow!" she beamed upon seeing her creation. "Zoe! You look pretty as can be."
"It's lovely," she blushed. She wasn't used to this kind of attention. Zoe had always been the practical one, so people didn't usually gush over her looks. Mostly they stared in fascinated horror as she beat the living hell out of something. It was nice to feel pretty again.
"I'm showing you off," Kaylee declared, and grabbed Zoe's hand before she could protest. What she didn't know was Zoe was not going to protest because she, too, wanted to be seen. This dress was heaven all stitched up.
Jayne had a better reaction that Kaylee ever could have hoped for. "Whoa," he said simply, staring without shame. Zoe gave him a dirty look he ignored.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Kaylee gushed. "I made the dress, but she fills it wonderfully."
"Damn," Jayne replied.
"I agree," Simon piped up, having just entered the conversation. "Zoe, you look amazing. Beautiful. You look like a real woman."
Kaylee shot him a nasty glare, and Zoe laughed. This was a patented Simon foot-in-the-mouth moment, and she was prepared to let him off easy. "As opposed to that fake woman I look like every other day, right?"
Simon realized what he'd said, stammered a bit and stared at the floor. "What I mean, is, uh, that you-"
"Thank you, Simon," she cut in. "I know what you meant." She decided it was time to get out of here. There was only so much compliment she could handle before it became too much.
River was hanging from a bar on the ceiling. "Perfect," she said, her hair making a curtain Zoe ducked beneath to get back to her room.
"Will you get down from there?" she said impatiently. "You're going to fall and-"
"Scramble your brain," River said mockingly. "Captain hasn't seen."
"You're right," Kaylee agreed, dragging Zoe (now against her will) toward the bridge. "Mal's gotta see it too."
"He doesn't care-"
"He helped pick it out."
Zoe gave pause. "He did?"
"Uh huh. Said you looked prettiest in blue."
"Did he?" Zoe knitted her brow, thinking. Since when did Mal think about what colors suited her? Since when does Mal kiss you?
Kaylee grinned widely. Well, he had said blue would look nice on her, so technically it hadn't been a lie. She pushed Zoe ahead of her into the room and introduced her like one would a queen. "Captain," she said grandly, "look at Zoe."
Mal spun around, not really interested but willing to humor. His jaw dropped, only unlike Jayne he had the sense and decency to close it quickly. Zoe was watching the ceiling, waiting patiently for the presentation to be over with. "Very nice," Mal said finally. "Nice work, Kaylee."
"Is that all?" she asked, exasperated. "Nice work? Don't she look like a dream?"
"She looks fine."
"Fine?" Kaylee scowled deeply. "She doesn't look fine, she looks perfect."
"Okay, she looks perfect."
"Mal!" she scolded.
"He's afraid of saying too much," River told her, her voice not trying to be secretive. "Captain won't let it slip."
"Enough outta you," Mal said sternly.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Kaylee begged.
Mal rubbed his eyes. "Yes," he admitted finally. "She is beautiful." There was something in Mal's voice that made Zoe pay closer attention. "Can I go back to running a ship now? Is the beauty contest over?"
"Was just proud of it was all," Kaylee said sorely, hanging her head.
Mal rolled his eyes, feeling embarrassed and guilty even though he knew Kaylee was playing him like a cheap fiddle. "It's beautiful," Mal said softly. "You did a great job, Kaylee. Looks perfect on her."
"You mean it?"
"Course I do. She's like… a rare butterfly caught on my ship." He smiled wanly at Zoe. "Can open the airlock and let you out, if you like."
"Think I'll just fly myself off to my room, go change," she told him. His eyes were telling her something but she couldn't catch it.
Kaylee took River with her as she left, smiling the secret smile of a woman. "Perfect," she whispered.
"Jayne will be easier," River told her. "Jayne has no use for butterflies."
Simon looked over his shoulder into the mirror behind him. He'd been thinking a lot about his scar lately, since Jayne had pointed it out to him. His shirt lie in a heap at his feet. The scar looked ragged and ugly- very representative of the memory.
Speaking of Jayne, he entered (without knocking) and scared the wits out of the poor doctor. "Admiring yourself?" he mused.
"Jayne!" Simon snapped. "Don't do that." He reached for his shirt on the floor, feeling embarrassed and exposed. Jayne snatched the shirt from the floor deftly, so much in fact that Simon didn't know he had it until his own fingers grasped air that had been filled by shirt seconds ago. "Give me that," he demanded.
Jayne tossed it over his shoulder into the hallway and closed the door. "Let me see that thing," he demanded, and grabbed Simon's shoulders roughly. Simon did not protest because it would have been useless. Jayne's grip on him was firm and commanding. It clearly said 'Stay put'. "Musta hurt," he mused, mulling the injury over in his head.
"It did," Simon admitted. "A lot." In many ways.
Jayne leaned in close, noticing something he'd missed the first time he'd seen it. Simon tensed his shoulders. Jayne grabbed them tighter, forcing the muscles to relax. His breath brushed Simon's skin, making all the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "Huh," Jayne said at last.
"What?" Simon whispered. For some reason, he couldn't find his usual voice.
"You were poisoned."
"I was what?" He spun around quickly, catching Jayne off guard. They met face to face, close enough to touch chins of their heads had angled just a few degrees. Or touch mouths.
"Poisoned," Jayne said, backing away just slightly. "You got another mark by the knife wound. Small, like a needle or a dart. Most likely a dart. Poison coated."
"Wh-what kind?" Simon asked. Anything to keep Jayne talking. If there was no conversation there would be… what?
"Now how in the hell would I know that?" Jayne asked reasonably. "You prob'ly absorbed it long time ago. But you ain't dead, so my guess is it weren't that bad."
"I guess." Simon held his breath, waiting. Waiting for something to happen because something was most definitely going to happen and he wasn't ready for it.
Jayne leaned back enough to pull his own shirt off and hand it to Simon. "Anyway, miss, came here to get some seam work done." He dropped his shirt into Simon's shaking hands. "Got a tear up the left side, was hoping you'd fix it."
"Sure." He couldn't think of anything else to say. He was still holding his breath and it wasn't until Jayne had gone that he breathed again.
It was late night on the ship. Mal passed Simon as he walked, nodding a brief acknowledgement that he had seen him. Simon looked distracted. Mal went on his way, unsure where he would end up. He just felt like walking is all. Except you know Zoe walks these halls at night, isn't that right? She paces when she can't sleep and lately, she can't sleep. And you know that. Mal frowned at his own inner monologue. Of course he knew that, but he wasn't looking for her. What, was it illegal now to go walking at night just because you knew someone else was doing it too? He'd seen Simon, hadn't he? Didn't mean he was looking for him. It wasn't that big a ship, so if he went for a late night walk around it he would most likely run into someone eventually. River was probably hanging from the ceiling trying to see if being upside down would make her mind make any more sense. In fact, he was willing to wager that he wouldn't even see Zoe because she usually went to the kitchen then made her way back to-
His eyes fell upon Zoe reading in the common room. Oh my God it's Zoe, shut up! his mind screamed. He felt like a child hiding in the bushes, waiting for the latest prank victim to come 'round. His feet halted, and he stood blatantly and cumbersome in the doorway just looking at her. It took her a moment no look up.
"Hello?" he asked, inquiring of his odd expression.
"Evening," he said easily, gliding back into a normal rhythm. "What keeps you so late?"
"Just reading," she told him. Oddly enough, it was Moby Dick. "How about you?"
He shrugged, knowing anything he told her would be a lie. "Just up."
"I made coffee, you want any?"
"Now that ain't gonna help you sleep, is it?" He smiled at her, and she smiled back. It was nice to just be them again, without the weirdness. Maybe he wouldn't say anything.
Zoe smiled at him, though it was forced. They couldn't even hold a conversation anymore without it being littered with discomfort. Ignoring the issue hadn't made it go away. She was going to have to say something. "Mind if I have a word, Mal?"
Uh oh. There hadn't been a 'sir' in there, which meant it was personal. His first instinct was to run, tell her he was just thinking of heading off to bed. It'd be a lie and she'd know, but that would postpone it for at least another day or two. "Sure," he said. Damn.
Zoe closed her book and leaned forward a bit. "Ignoring it isn't working," she said seriously.
"All right," he agreed, though uncomfortable in doing so. "What do you suggest, then?" Oh please, suggest what I'm hoping for.
"I think we should kill ourselves."
Mal blinked once. Then again. Then a third time. "Come again?"
"It's become too much of a hassle. We can't even talk in a professional manner, let alone as friends. And we can't ignore it, so I think we ought to kill ourselves."
Oh, it was a joke… Whew. "Okay then, I agree. How should we do it?"
"Seppuku is dignified," she reasoned.
"Where we gonna find a samurai sword lying around?"
"Good point."
"And truth be told, Zoe, once I see your guts hanging out on the floor, I most likely ain't gonna take a knife to mine."
"What makes you think I'm going first?"
"Ah," he laughed, "so that's how it is?" This was pleasant, though morbid. "Maybe we can open the airlock and just jump out."
"Who's gonna close it behind us? We'd kill everyone."
"Good point."
They hashed over possibilities for a while, none of them seeming right. Suicide seemed not to be the answer for their conundrum "Maybe," Zoe said at last, "we can just laugh about it and move on?"
"You think so?"
"Maybe instead of ignoring it, we say 'Hey, it happened', then just let it go."
"That I think I can handle." He smiled shyly, and Zoe melted a bit. Damn that man was endearing sometimes, albeit a pain in the ass. "Permission to speak freely?" he asked sarcastically.
"Suppose I'll allow."
"Damn."
She quirked an eyebrow. "Damn what?"
"Damn you looked good earlier."
"Mm, from what I hear you picked it out."
"I did?" Mal tried to remember. Kaylee had asked him his opinion on what would make Zoe pretty. He'd picked blue. He'd been right. "Oh, right," he recalled. "I did. Kaylee asked me which color I thought would 'Make Zoe look pretty'. I said blue."
"It was nice." And here came the awkward again, creeping in. No, no, this wasn't awkward. It was uncomfortable. It was a different kind of uncomfortable than before. Zoe realized in some horror this was an impending kiss kind of uncomfortable. "Think I'm done reading for the night," she said hurriedly, dropping Moby Dick onto her chair as she stood up.
"Yeah, think I'll turn in, too. Got word on some work tomorrow, hopefully this'll pan out better than last time. It's been over a year, you know?"
"Yeah, I know. But we make do."
"Should've taken that weapons smuggle. Should have."
"No," she said sternly, getting all up in his personal space, "you shouldn't have. You were right to turn it down. I was mad at first because we need pay, but the Alliance would've been all over our tails with that cargo." She looked his straight in the eye, a tactic she knew always got him to listen to her (because honestly, her eyes were scary places when she was being serious). "You did what was right, Mal. Really."
"Yeah?" She was being sincere, so he decided maybe he had after all. "Just sick of feeling like a loser sometimes. Don't happen often, but when it does…"
"That's all right," she assured him, slinging an arm around his waist and herding him towards their collective quarters. "Who better to captain a renegade firefly?"
"No one," he said proudly, and smiled. Not a damn man alive. They walked toward the quarters like drunken friends, hanging on one another for stability. Mal shifted his footing every few steps to make them weave all over the hallways, and Zoe in turn slammed him into a few walls.
"We're almost there," she laughed crossly. "Would you knock it off? You're gonna knock me down the ladder."
"Nah, I won't," he assured her, sticking his foot out and making her trip. He caught her, which was nice of him. She punched him in the gut, which wasn't nice of her. He knew he deserved it, though, so he took his lumps quietly. "Oof," was all he said on the matter.
"Good night, sir," Zoe said, having gotten out her frustration by punching him. It was satisfying.
"Good night," Mal said, and pushed open the way to his bunk.
On the bridge, the ghost of Wash sighed defeatedly, grabbed Serenity's steering column and jerked it backward.
Mal flung backward into Zoe, slamming them both against the wall. She caught him because of well trained reactions. She kissed him because it was about damn time she did. He kissed back because you don't let a gorgeous woman kiss you and not reciprocate. That's just rude.
Hours later, they lay in bed together, sweaty and exhausted. (You know what happened, so I don't have to say.) Mal kissed Zoe's forehead despite the beads of sweat that lined it. "Well damn," he said, smiling faintly.
"Hmm?"
"Looks like Jayne and Simon won their bet."
Simon had been sleeping, oh yes. Been sleeping well, too. But as his dreams had started getting worthwhile (a pretty woman with a familiar name he couldn't place had just entered them) someone had come in and stabbed him fiercely. It had been Josh. As Simon lay on the cold ground, screaming and bleeding, his mind recalled what had happened that day. He'd been tossed out of the car. The driver must have been in on Josh's scheme because he didn't even slow down. He'd hit the pavement, tumbled a bit and came to a stop in the gutter. Something had started burning in his veins. Was he imagining it? No, there was burning most certainly. In his blood. In his brain. He started vomiting fiercely. A woman ran up to him, hoisted him to his feet and started pulling him somewhere. Couldn't she see he was dying? Why hadn't she let him go? All this related to Jayne somehow. The poison. The woman. Jayne. Why?
Simon woke up screaming as best he could with a weak voice. The room was cool and dark. Suddenly too cold and too lonesome. He pulled on yesterday's shirt and hurriedly left his bunk, still barefoot. The steel floors were ice against his feet but he had better things to worry about. He passed Mal in the hallways, briefly acknowledged him (hadn't he?) and made a beeline for Jayne's room. Jayne. Oh, hell. Jayne had been the name of the woman he had been about to sleep with in his dream. "Oh, whatever," Simon moaned. Tonight he hated his subconscious.
Jayne was not awake, because it was the middle of the night. Simon went down anyway and shove the merc hard. He knew Jayne was easy to wake up but he was still too shaken to be gentle. "Jayne," he said firmly.
The man's eyes snapped open. "Huh?" He sat up, instantly ready to fight. Sort of. Groggily. Well, he could have taken Simon and that was about it.
"It's Simon."
"What?" he snapped. "Was asleep in case you ain't aware."
"I-I need to ask you something." The tremble in his voice made Jayne wake up some.
Sighing wearily, Jayne sat up and made space for Simon beside him. "Okay," he said patiently, feeling anything but. "What the hell's the matter now?"
Simon climbed up on Jayne's bed, suddenly aware of how cold he was. "I had a dream about Josh."
"Come on, man, can't this wait?"
"And I remembered something about that day he stabbed me. When he pushed me out of the car, I got sick. I started throwing up, and everything burned. And there was a woman right there with me, helping me to my feet to get me to a hospital. Like she was waiting for me."
"Waiting?"
"Yeah. She just grabbed me and took me away. And I think about it, and that doesn't make sense. Especially not for where we were. People don't just help you like that. Everyone should have been afraid to touch me. Someone might have called a medic, yes, but they probably wouldn't have just helped like that. Unless she was a doctor…"
"He chusheng zajiao de zanghuo!" Jayne spat, startling Simon from his rant. "Felt like burning?"
"Everywhere. In my blood, my stomach, my brain. I started throwing up."
"Well, if I'm right and I'm pretty sure I am, you should be crazier'n your sister right about now."
Simon was puzzled. "I should?"
"What yer friend a yers gave you was the Crazy Stick."
"…I'm sorry, I don't follow."
"Crazy Stick. Basically, some illegal poison used by hired men and Alliance forces to make a man go moonier than River. Stick ya with the poison, in 'bout half an hour stuff literally burns the memories and sanity right outta ya. Lucky for you, you had a bad allergic reaction to it, puked it all outta yerself."
"But I didn't drink it."
"Don't matter. My guess it he stuck ya too close to the knife wound so it all bled out that way, and anything else left in ya was chucked out yer mouth." Jayne mulled it over some more. "Woman was probably working for yer friend. She was supposed to take you to a medic and get you put away in a loony bin. Weren't luck she was there."
Simon felt a bit like puking right now. At the very, very least, Josh had wanted him to live. That's what he got for nearly a decade of friendship. It was mind blowing to think that everything that had happened to him- getting River, finding Serenity, discovering Miranda- could have been stopped by just one inch to the right. If Josh had poisoned him where it wouldn't bleed out, if he hadn't had a bad reaction to it… it could all be over. Or never begun, more accurately.
"You all right, doc?"
"No."
"You ain't gonna cry, are ya?"
"No." He was serious, he wouldn't. He was too stunned at the moment. "Thank you, Jayne."
"For what?"
"I don't know… For not killing me when I woke you up."
"Ah, forget it." It had been bothering Jayne, though. Any other person would have gotten at least a fist to the jaw for that, Mal included. Jayne found he was a lot more patient with Simon that almost anyone else. Except Kaylee. That girl had a way with him most times. Played him like a cheap fiddle.
Simon leaned his head absently on Jayne's burly and uncovered shoulder. "I could be dead," he said flatly.
"Not dead. Just crazy."
"River could be dead. Mal could be. Everything could be so much worse if I had lost my mind."
"Well you didn't," Jayne said sharply, not at all liking how funny Simon was making him feel. "You made it and everyone else did and now things are as they are. Quit dwellin on the past, it's stupid."
"I know it's stupid but it scares me. Scares me how much I could have lost."
"You wouldn't have known any different."
"No," Simon admitted, laying down on Jayne's bed and resting his leg's over the merc's lap. "I wouldn't have. But I do now and that scares me."
"I ain't a damn foot rest!" Jayne said impatiently, although he made no actions to remove Simon.
"Sorry," he said absently, instead tucking his cold feet under Jayne's leg. The merc sighed, irritated, but said nothing. "What a way to wake up, huh? Until then I'd been having a great dream about a woman."
"Kaylee?"
"No, not her. Much different. This woman was dark and mean and tough, but at the same time there was something undeniably appealing about her."
"Zoe?"
"No," Simon chuckled, "definitely not Zoe. Her name was-" He stopped, suddenly remembering. "I don't remember," he blushed, turning his face away.
Jayne didn't believe him. Didn't care much, either. But then it hit him. "Oh, no, was her name Jayne?"
"No," he lied timidly.
"Yes it was!" Jayne yelled. "Don't be giving my name to your fantasy women!"
"I didn't do it on purpose," he said defensively, still blushing.
"Well get it out of your head!" he demanded. "I ain't your dream woman."
"No," Simon agreed readily, "you're not."
Jayne pouted for a while, though over what he couldn't be sure. But there was pouting to be done. He looked down on Simon, who had taken over the better half of the bed and seemed quite content in doing so. Jayne scowled. "Get outta my bed," he said.
"Do I have to? It's warm in here."
"Yes, you have to." He wormed his way in between Simon and the wall and shoved hard. Simon would have gone tumbling over the edge, but he knew immediately what Jayne was doing and grabbed hold of the man's waist before he was pushed. "Let go!" Jayne cried.
"No!" Simon retorted, laughing at how much like a child he felt. Jayne pushed again, this time kicking as well. Simon curled his knees up, striking Jayne in the lower back.
"Ow!" Jayne yelled, swinging a fist overhead to clock Simon with. He missed. "Get outta my bunk!"
"Make me!"
"I can!"
"Liar!"
This time when Jayne shoved against the wall, he took no precaution to keep himself on the bed. They both flew over the edge, Simon's ribs making a dissatisfied pop as Jayne landed on them.
"Ow!" Simon yelled, letting go of the man's waist. Jayne rolled off him triumphantly. Using his gentle surgeon's hands, Simon examined himself. He was okay, but Jayne was heavy and that'd hurt. That and the unexpected floor beneath him to stop the fall.
"Told you so," Jayne gloated.
"Yeah, yeah," Simon said miserably. "You're lucky you didn't break anything. I can't operate on myself."
"How does that make me lucky?" In response, Simon jumped back on Jayne's bed with a speed the merc didn't know the doctor had in him. "Hey!" he yelled, startled. "Gerroff my bed."
"I win," Simon smiled triumphantly, laying himself comfortably on the small pillow. Wasn't that how the game was played? He and Herbert (before Josh, long, long before) had played this game hundreds of times. Last man standing. King of the mountain.
Jayne stood up and towered over Simon menacingly. He placed a hand on either side of Simon's shoulders and leaned in real close. "My bed," he said, his voice angrily playful. "No one wins here but me."
The ship took a sudden jerk, sending Jayne slamming into Simon in the most undignified way. His face collided with Simon's chest, and the familiar sharp pain of hitting his nose on something stung at his eyes. Serenity righted herself again quickly.
"What was that?" Simon asked, panicked.
"Nothing," Jayne said flatly, rubbing his face. "Gorramit."
"You okay?"
"I'm fine." He shoved Simon against the wall and sat himself onto his bed. Stupid medic and his taking over Jayne's bed. That'd really hurt. "Move over," he said irritably.
"I have nowhere to go." But he shifted onto his side, giving Jayne at least some kind of illusion of space. Jayne took up the space gladly.
"Will you get outta here?" he asked again, although this time not really meaning it.
"If you want me to." Simon was trying to figure out what that strange tone in Jayne's voice was. Don't over analyze, Simon. It's probably nothing. Jayne shrugged and said nothing. Simon thought it over a bit. In order to get past Jayne, he would have to literally climb over him. And as it was he seemed to be stuck right against the wall with hardly any room to breathe, let alone squirm his way out. But on the other hand, sleeping in here would be far too… what? Weird? Uncomfortable? Desirable? He scolded himself for that last comment.
Jayne rolled over and faced Simon, their faces terribly close. "You got four seconds to stop making me think like that," he said dangerously.
"Huh?" Simon asked, startled in every possible way. "Like what?"
"Four…three…two…"
"Wait, what'd I-"
"One. Oh, hell," Jayne cursed, then kissed the damn doctor.
Simon pulled back immediately, knocking his head against the wall behind him. "Ouch," was the best he could come up with.
"I warned you," Jayne told him, glaring.
"Warned? No you didn't, not for that!"
"How much did you need?" His eyes were stony and cruel.
Simon watched his words carefully since he couldn't run from Jayne if he said the wrong thing. "I don't know… maybe… I don't know." A nice warning like 'I'm going to kiss you now and completely blow your mind' would have been great. But he couldn't bring himself to say that.
"What the hell did you do to me, doc?" Jayne asked, almost angrily. "I ain't never kissed a man in all my life, and now here you are, in my damn bed and I been thinking about not much else for days."
"I don't know," Simon said apologetically. "I didn't do anything."
"The hell you didn't."
"Hey," Simon said bravely, "I'm not the one who wanted to sleep with me naked, remember? That was your idea."
"That was survival training, that's different."
"I fail to see how." He smirked triumphantly. Jayne glared back.
"I hate you," Jayne said after a tense moment.
Simon lifted himself up onto his elbow. He looked down at Jayne, who was looking right back. "I don't believe you," he decided.
"You better. Want me to prove it?"
"Yes," he challenged.
Jayne readied himself to knock Simon out. Instead, he kissed him again. Damn, he cursed to himself. Hate that part of me being the dominating part. The Decision Maker, Jayne had often called it. This time, Simon kissed back. If only to prove that he had been right.
This ain't so bad, Jayne realized. Not even half bad. Was confusing as hell, but not bad per se. Suddenly he started laughing, and broke apart the kiss.
"What?" Simon asked, a little paranoid.
"Was just thinking," he mused. "Bet shoulda been on us."
Four days later, Kaylee and River were sitting in the common room playing Go Fish with seven decks of stolen cards.
"What color dress will Kaylee get?" River asked, handing over a three of clubs.
"I think green," Kaylee said, pairing River's three of clubs with another just like it and placing it on the table. "Like emeralds. How do your fingernails look?"
River admired them. Kaylee had painted them the other day, and they still looked beautiful because dishwater hadn't ruined them. "Pretty," she decided.
"Got a seven?"
"Go fish. What did Kaylee ask Mal and Zoe for, anyway?"
Kaylee grabbed a nine from the fish pond. "A kitten."
River nodded. "Queen?"
Kaylee handed over a queen. "What about you? What are you getting?"
River smiled broadly, placing two queens onto the playing table. "More men on crew. Kaylee and River are left out."
THE END